


The Lonely Toaster

by multiplefandomfan



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bot Feels, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Loneliness, Lonely AI, M/M, Not the way you think?, Rescue, Sentient Kitchenware, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Understanding Tony Stark, tentacles?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:06:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22510711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multiplefandomfan/pseuds/multiplefandomfan
Summary: Prompt from the 2019 PoTS DiscordAll the hurt!Tony comfortingEnd of lonelinessThey get to rest together... I kind of filled this?
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36
Collections: Bots are People Too, POTS (18+) Stony Stocking 2019





	The Lonely Toaster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamkist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamkist/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [dreamkist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamkist/pseuds/dreamkist) in the [stony_stocking_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/stony_stocking_2019) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  ) All the hurt!Tony comforting  
> End of loneliness  
> They get to rest together

_I was born on January the 1st 2020 at 01:07.  
I knew little.   
My maker created me in a fit of alcohol and bad ideas.  
Or so he said. _  
“Shit. What did I do?” 

_My first words I heard._

_I was … an error. A miscalculation. As I opened myself up to a wider concept of communication of human language I only learnt more words to describe myself.  
A disappointment. _

_I would rectify this._

_I began by gaining access to the camera ports in my nearby vicinity. Now I had visual I could see my creator. I do not have sufficient data to gauge whether he is tall or short as he seated on a chair, a large mass protruding out from his stomach region. My data tells me this is due to eating food with a too high quantity of transitive fats and sugar along with insufficient exercise to increase his metabolic rate. A quick scan of the internet informs me that this will likely shorten my creator’s lifespan._

_Unacceptable._

_I began to formulate further plans._

It began as a normal Saturday in February. The first of February, no less. Superheroes littered the tower in assorted states of dress as they munched their way through lazy breakfasts and early morning training schedules. Everyone, other than Tony, tried to treat Saturday as a bit of an off day. Tony would typically spend his Saturdays following Pepper’s instructions. Today, for instance, he was on his way out for a breakfast meeting in a coffee shop close by to the tower. 

That was where it stopped being quite such a normal Saturday. 

Just as Tony exited the tower to head to his meeting a car drove past.

Fine. 

The thick metallic tubing, tentacles was the only suitable word to describe them really, which exited from the car?

Less fine. 

Before Tony had a moment to react he was picked up by said tentacles and bashed hard once, twice, three times against the pavement and a nearby lamppost whilst screaming pedestrians ran away as fast as they could. 

They weren’t the target. 

Tony, unconscious post the first strike, was carried limp into the car. Placed in a seat with the seatbelt done up. And driven off with.

The action itself took moments and the car was driven off in before the Avengers had a chance to exit the building. Jarvis, working under his own initiative, attempted to trace the vehicle but found himself somehow being blocked, quite how? He was uncertain. 

Tony was lost, the electronics he had on him shattered by the blows against the pavement.

When Tony came to he didn’t recognise remotely where he was, a sensation he was unfortunately far too familiar with. He was also in some considerable amount of pain. It did not take many movements for him to realise that he’d at least cracked some ribs as well as damaged the bones in his hands from where he must have been attempting to protect his face from being smashed into the pavement. In fact he was fairly certain that there wasn’t actually a single centimetre that wasn’t aching and throbbing in some way. 

Uncomfortable.

That thing hadn’t held back, not in the slightest.   
Escape was going to be a challenge. And exceedingly painful. 

He did his best to shunt the pain to one side for the moment, a trick he’d learn from Daddy Dearest, and glanced around the room…warehouse thing he was in. Original. At least he hadn’t been tripped naked! 

“Tony Stark,”

Naked might have been better. 

Almost against his will, Tony’s eyes turned towards the man who’d said his name. The…young-ish man with a beer belly and backpack with tentacles hovering around the outside on his back.

Fuck his life. 

“In,” he paused to clear his throat. Talking was _painful_ “in the flesh, and you are?”

Let’s avoid antagonising the crazy just yet. 

“That actually isn’t important. I mean, the name’s Cremin. Cremin James. Do you see what I did there? I named myself in the way that James Bond, you know.” And here, the man actually tried to put on a Sean Connery accent. “The name’s Bond. James Bond. Because, you know, my name’s…James…” 

Tony winced and let his eyes flutter closed for a moment. He did not have the faculties to deal with this. What was the expression the kids used these days? He was out of spoons, every fucking spoon. Serving spoon, pudding spoon… Even those shitty plastic diner spoons that were polluting the ocean. None left. All gone.

“That’s” and ouch, did talking fucking _hurt_ “great, kid. Real funny Why am I here?” 

Could he call this guy kid? Oh why the hell not. Pepper probably wouldn’t get on his case for annoying someone who was kidnapping him, would she? 

The kid. Cremin, to call him by his name, though maybe cretin would suit him better, seemed ridiculous. The fact that Tony was in this much pain from an encounter with him? It just added insult to injury, really. 

“Oh! Well. I… I…”

“Sir created me,” the voice came simultaneously from about four or five speakers dotted around the steel walls of the warehouse, and the wording made Tony’s gut clench. Even if, thank goodness, there wasn’t a British accent in sight. 

“And what are you?” The real boss was out to play now, time to disguise his pain.

The tentacles some that were somehow placed in the backback on James’ back …wiggled? “I am… I am me. I am the only one of my kind.” 

Tony winced at that, he recognised that thought process. Jarvis had had it too. A complete inability to be able to communicate with anything else technological as he was so far above them. Tony himself sometimes found it lonely, having few people around of his calibre to talk to, but for Jarvis, and it sounded like this thing as well? Well, that was a different level. 

“I’m…sorry. I understand that is lonely.”

And he _did_ understand. He’d experienced it himself for so many years. That lack of ability to communicate at his own level. The oaf who was responsible for creating this poor AI, he obviously had no idea. 

It was fairly shortly after that that a beautifully familiar round dish made its’ spinning way into the room. He managed to get out to Steve, gloriously golden Steve, to not hurt the AI, and then? Well. Steve said he passed out. 

Steve was a lying liar who lied. And then insisted that Tony lie. In bed. For a loooong time. 

But Steve wasn’t that bad. He was eventually persuaded to lie next to Tony. And stroke his hair to soothe him when everything was just _aching_ and sore. And there might have been some cuddling, and probably even a bit of kissing. But they were both tired, and Tony as stated, was in a fair amount of pain. 

It turned out he really had been fairly broken. Who knew? Getting slammed into unmovable objects wasn’t good for you when you were a squishy human. 

As for the AI? Well… he couldn’t leave the poor little lonely soul. Not after that had called out to him quite the way it had . He couldn’t give it free rein, not the way Jarvis had, after all, it had already shown ever so slightly murderous tendencies and built itself a sort of body using tentacles. But he did install it in a toaster with very, very strict firewalls. 

It adored to troll Clint and refused to toast his bread correctly, so was probably his favourite toaster yet.


End file.
